


this language believes in ghosts

by shellsinsand



Series: the consequences of light [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22841290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellsinsand/pseuds/shellsinsand
Summary: a girl & her fox
Relationships: Uzumaki Kushina & Uzumaki Mito
Series: the consequences of light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1115862
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	this language believes in ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> title from The Icelandic Language by Bill Holm

“They’re not so bad,” father says, scratching his beard. Kushina tilts her head up to take in Konoha gates – big and wood and _wrong_ – and frowns.

“ _Tou-chan_ , I don’t _want to_ ,” she says, tugging at his hand. It’s storm season and this is the first year niisan will be allowed to run the rapids and she is going to _miss it_. No one else has to go learn about their stupid neighbors. “It’s not fair!”

“Kushina,” father says in his _no-arguments_ voice.

“Tou-chan,” she echoes grumpily, but there’s no point in resisting when he starts walking forward. Niisan is always calling her the baby, but even she’s old enough to know this is not a battle she’s going to win; father hands their papers to the guards and they walk under the gate. At least mother’s not here to give her the Life Is Not Fair speech. “We could come back in the spring,” she wheedles, digging her chin into father’s forearm. It’s not that she doesn’t want to meet Mito-sama, but why did it have to be _now_? Why did father have to be so tallll? It’s impossible to see what’s happening on his face from this angle.

“And leave me with no company in typhoon season?”

Kushina jumps, spins right, and almost whacks into someone’s knee. There’s a precarious moment where she wobbles, but father catches her shoulder and pulls her back to center. She looks up, up, up at the woman in front of her; she’s only a handful of centimeters shorter than father! Although, that could have something to do with her hair: deep red, a few shades darker than Kushina’s own, and piled into twin buns. They look like traditional Uzumaki welcome buns, and she wonders who helps her with them. It always takes mother and at least one aunt to make her hair into anything resembling respectable – which is why it’s flowing in a tangle down her back. She locks her jaw and refuses to let herself blush.

“Mito-sama,” father says, bowing, and Kushina copies him hastily.

“None of that,” the old woman – Mito-sama – clucks, and grabs father’s chin, turning him this way and that. “Mmm, you carry much of your grandfather’s face.” Father blinks.

“I never knew him.” Mito-sama releases him, patting his cheek.

“You did not miss much,” she says, and turns to her. Kushina, stubbornly, refuses to fidget. “Well, child, would you leave me with no company?”

“Konoha doesn’t have typhoons,” her mouth says before she gives it permission. She bites her lip, although it’s true – they learned it in geography! Mito-sama, unlike her academy teachers, just laughs. It’s a warm, open sound and Kushina’s thoughts fly back to baba’s kitchen: ducking under and around everyone’s feet, flour and bean paste getting everywhere, and so much laughter. Maybe Konoha won’t be entirely awful after all.

“Not the way you know them, child, but it does remind one of home.” She smooths a hand over the top of Kushina’s head and says something to father too quietly for her to catch. _Adults_ , blech. She studies the road in front of them; it’s all gangly wooden buildings reaching for the sky and well packed dirt. None of it would last a second in a gale. Do they even have ships… a flash of movement catches her eye and she jerks her head up. There! She grins, tracking the lazy leaps of a shinobi across the roofs.

“Kushina.”

“What?” she says, turning back to look at them. Father frowns at her and she rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

“Mito-sama invited you to tea.”

“Oh,” she says, wide eyed. “Did you, uhm...” It’s not Kushina’s _fault_ exactly that she’s known for breaking tea cups – the trouble is always finding her! Mother called her a calamity in action, whatever that meant.

“I raised my own children, Kushina.” Mito-sama says, voice stern but eyes laughing. “I do not live in fear of a broken cup.” Father coughs suspiciously, but raises a pointed eyebrow at her when she glares. No fair. “We will have tea and decide if you ought to see the typhoons here or from more familiar vistas.”

“I would be honored,” she says, because mother is always going on and on about her manners. Hopefully vista doesn’t mean from her room, to think about what she’s done.

\--

Three hours later – face washed, clothes changed, and hair brushed if not…neat – she stares at the graceful curve of the path to the small cottage. Uzumaki Mito, the Woman of Six Seals, lives in a small hanare behind her son’s house. It looks to be made entirely of wood, and the closer she gets she can see where the boards don’t look right, almost like they were melted together. She runs her hand over the porch railing, scratching at where it disappears into support post.

“My husband built this house.” Kushina yelps, straightens too fast, and whacks her forearm against the rail.

“ _Drown it_ ,” she hisses, because everyone yells at her when she says it the other way. Mito-sama raises a single eyebrow anyway. “Sneaking up on people is rude,” she mutters, scuffing at the porch.

“Uzumaki’s are not known for sneaking,” Mito-sama says, like she could be smiling on the inside. “Daresay let’s go inside before you find something else to take fault in.” Oh Kami, mother was going to _murder_ her. She pulls her sleeves down over her palms.

“Sorry, Mito-sama,” she says, even though she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.

“Sobo if you please,” she says and gestures Kushina through the front door. Inside is neat and full of light, the ceiling going up and up. All of the corners have the same fuzzed together look as the porch.

“Sobo,” she says, running her hand over the wall, “How did he build the house?”

“Mokuton – it’s a rather unusual kekkei genkai. Have you learned about those yet?”

“I’m not _stupid_. They’re changes to peoples’ bodies that let them use chakra differently. It’s gen… you get it from your parents.”

“Yes, they’re genetic.”

“That,” she says, craning her head back. “He could melt wood?”

“Not quite.” There’s hiss as the stove starts, the snick of match. “He could create wood.”

“He _grew_ the house?” She spins to face Mito-sama. That’s so _cool_.

“Among other things,” she says with the same almost smile as before. “The wood’s unusually resistant to the elements as well.”

“He should have built Old Asahi’s house. It’s always rotting.” And there is little else he talks about. How could a person be so interested in a roof anyway? Mito-sama hums, bustling around the kitchen. The house is mostly one open room, but Kushina wanders down the sole hallway. There’s a bathroom and a bedroom and a room with nothing but a cushion on the floor. She slides the door open further and steps inside, wriggling her toes against the floor. Father never lets her do taijutsu in their house, but there’s nothing to break in here…

“Kushina!”

“Coming!” She yells, sinking into a horse stance and closing her eyes. Uzumaki Kushina, Greatest Shinobi in the Whole World, capable of beating a 100 ninja at once… The wood’s cool and she slides into the kata, dodging punches and spinning into kicks. Her opponents fall one by one, her cousins cheering behind her -

“Kushina.”

“Ah!” She wobbles, the bare walls of Mito-sama’s spare room rushing back in as she opens her eyes. “I was coming!”

“I can see that,” she says, and Kushina flushes.

“Sorry, Sobo,” she says with a half bow. There’s a look on Mito-sama’s face she can’t interpret when she looks back up, but it doesn’t look mad at least.

“Come, the tea will go cold.”

The tea’s set out on the table and the cups – a pale blue – don’t look as fragile as Kushina feared. She still keeps her hands firmly in her lap when she sits, breathing in the earthy steam as Mito-sama pours. It smells familiar in a distant way but doesn’t taste like anything she knows, sharp and bitter. Only mother’s voice in her head keeps her from wrinkling her nose. When she meets Mito-sama’s gaze, the light dancing in her eyes makes her think she knows anyway.

“It’s good,” she says, stubbornly, taking another sip and not grimacing even a little. “Thank you.”

“You would be the first to think so,” Mito-sama says, perfectly calm.

“Sobo!” she yells, and remembers herself just in time to not drop her cup. Tea sloshes over the rim, hot on her fingers, and she sets the porcelain down in a rush. “It’s a – a _prank_ tea?” Sobo laughs, light and musical, and sets her own drink down. 

“Not as such. Although,” she says, tilting her head, “I cannot say it has never been used that way.” 

“ _Awesome_ ,” she says - niisan’s face is going to be _hilarious_. Surely she could borrow some – wait, why had... “Why did you drink it?” Instead of answering, Sobo lays her hand on the table between them palm up and winks. Kushina grins and takes her hand; the world goes dark. 

–-

Years later and her life in shards around her, she’ll wonder what would have happened if she’d hesitated, if she’d refused. Would they have found someone else to carry the burden? Would she have found Yomi with the rest of her family? Would it have mattered at all? Anyone that could have told her will be dead, their village washed out to sea. 

Long live the Uzumaki. 

–-

The sun is hot on the back of her neck even through the veil of the trees, the air thick and heavy with summer. She wipes sweat off her face as she walks, feet dragging, and nearly collapses in relief when the creek appears in front of her. Blessed suijin. The water’s cool on her  legs and her hands and minnows dart away from her into the shadows. When she looks up again, there are two boys – old enough for the rapids but not for the council – rough housing upstream. She knows they’re laughing even though they make no sound; it’s written all over their faces, the way their feet gleefully kick up water as they grapple. 

“There you are,” Mito-sama says as the taller boy loses his footing and they both fall into the water. Her hand is heavy on Kushina’s shoulder even as the scene melts away into a field of white. 

“Where _are_ we?” She asks, trying to find some kind of feature in the landscape. When she waves a hand out it doesn’t feel like anything but air. “Who were they? What happened to the trees? Is that what summer is like in Konoha – cause it was _awful_. Do you -”

“Peace, child,” Sobo says. “The tea facilitates converting the drinker’s consciousness to spiritual energy, which is more easily guided than active thoughts. Without it, reaching your subconscious requires either deep meditation or serious danger.”

“We’re inside my head?!” Oh kami, she has enough problems keeping her thoughts to herself as it is. Where is she supposed to put them if they’re literally in her head? She spins to face Sobo.

“No,” she says, a small smile on her lips, before Kushina can speak. “We’re in mine.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Who, would be the more appropriate question,” she says instead of answering, which is almost as annoying as when Jiji does it. “This way.” As far as Kushina can tell, there’s nothing different about the direction she starts walking, but she follows anyway. Getting lost inside of someone else head sounds like a _really_ bad idea. 

They walk for a long time; long enough that she seriously debates asking when they’re going to get there even though only  _babies_ do that. Practicing her hand seals kills another few minutes, but she has to give up when she can’t remember where her thumbs are supposed to go for ram. Just when she’s about to give up, she spots a dark spec on the horizon.  _Finally!_ It gets bigger faster than it should, a door appearing almost between one blink and the next. 

“Kushina...”

“Sobo?” She asks, when Mito-sama doesn’t say anything else, tracing the outline of her shoulders. They roll back as she releases a breath. 

“Remember nothing in here will hurt you,” she says and opens the door. Darkness spirals out and swallows them. 

–-

The void is hot and tastes like smoke. When she waves a hand in front of her nose she can’t see it at all. There’s a rustle behind her and she whirls around, but the dark is just as complete. 

“Hello?” She takes a shuffling step forward. “Sobo?” There’s a clank, like metal on metal, and then a fire flares. She throws her hand up, blinking rapidly. 

**There are no grandmothers here** , a voice – deep and resonant and somehow not a voice at all – says. She wipes tears from her eyes and squints past the flames. This room is just as featureless as the last except for the crackling fire and… chains? They’re bolted to the floor with big, heavy panels and disappear into the dark. There’s a rolling sound, something that might pass for a typhoon laughing, and then a giant red eye flares out of the darkness; she bites down her shriek and stumbles back. 

“Who are you?”

**Your nightmare** , the voice cackles, and the eye surges forward with a scream of metal.  _ Nothing can hurt you _ , she thinks, dodging back behind the fire.  _ Nothing can hurt you _ . Sure enough, the chains hold.  **UZUMAKI YOU FILTHY COWARD,** the voice howls, thrashing. Enough of it has stepped into the light that Kushina can make out the shape of its ears, the curve of its muzzle, and what must be the tip of… a tail. 

“Kyubi,” she breathes and the room dissolves around her in a clamor of Kurama’s howls. 

–-

“Fox,” she says, bolting upright. The room sways around her and she almost tips right off the sleeping mat before Sobo catches her. 

“Drink.” She holds a cup of tea to Kushina’s mouth and she swallows on reflex. The heat of it settles into her stomach and the rest of her body comes into focus. She wiggles her toes under the blankets. 

“Woah.” Somehow, when Mother had told her about tailed beasts, she hadn’t pictured… _that_. The voice… she shudders. “Was that?”

“Kurama, the nine-tailed demon fox? Yes.” 

“But that was...” She frowns, twisting her hands in her lap. “You said we were in your head.”

“Yes, we were,” Sobo says, solemn. “Have you heard of jinchuriki?” 

“A little,” she hedges, chewing on her lip. It’s bad manners to eavesdrop on people outside of missions – Mother always says so – but if people are talking really loudly is is really eavesdropping? She can hardly be blamed for doing her chores at the same time Riku had come to visit. “They’re containers, right?” 

“Indeed.” She makes the same patient face that Jiji gets when he’s waiting for Kushina to figure out the obvious mistake in her fuinjutsu homework. 

“But you couldn’t...” Years and years and _years_ ago tailed beasts had been natural disasters: pure chakra storms that shaped mountains and carved rivers. All of that chakra couldn’t fit in one person could it? And it talks! Does that mean the demon name isn’t just a scary title? “You have a – a… a demon? Inside of you! You could blow up a mountain?!” 

“I am a jinchuriki,” Sobo says, catching the hand Kushina didn’t realize she was waving around in her own. There’s a small smile on her face. “I probably could, if I wished, destroy a small mountain.” 

“ _Awesome_.” A whole mountain! 

“Perhaps, but it comes with a price.” Her grip on Kushina’s hand is firm, unwavering, and she remembers the heat and the smoke and the _voice_. “Kurama is not a demon, but neither is he human or beast.”

“What is he?” 

“Very old, very clever, and very angry.” 

“And he...” She taps her own temple in question, swallowing hard. 

“Yes, he is always there, waiting for me. We have been together for a long time.” 

“Oh.” A chill crawls up her spine, but Mito-sama doesn’t sound sad or scared, just firm. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“There’s too much to explain today, Kushina, but one day I will die. When I do, Konoha will need a new jinchuriki.” A sinking feeling settles in her stomach. “Tea with me was your final test.”

“But I didn’t know!” She doesn’t want to live in stupid Konoha with its stupid trees and wrong buildings and be days and days away from everyone she knows. Her eyes burn and she yanks her hand out of Mito’s grip. “It’s not fair!”

“Life rarely is.” She runs a hand over Kushina’s head, tucking the hair behind her ear. “We ask this of you, as your duty to your village, but we will not force it on you. You’ll stay with me for the remainder of storm season and then you will give us your answer.” The glimpse of freedom simmers in Kushina’s gut, anger lending it strength, and she rubs the tears out of her eyes. 

“Fine,” she says, meeting Mito-sama’s eyes. She would stay for three months and then she would leave this place behind her like a horrible dream. “But I won’t say yes.”

“We will see,” Mito-sama says and she almost sounds sad. 

**Author's Note:**

> look, all I want in life is more content of the women of naruto even if I have to write it myself


End file.
